The Weekend Plan

Marta has lived in Sydney for six months, and this is her first free weekend since April. On Wednesday, she planned every hour of it.

"On Saturday morning, I'm meeting Jess and Omar at Bondi Beach," she told her flatmate. "We're swimming, and then we're having a picnic. In the evening, I'm going to a concert in the park."

"And Sunday?" "On Sunday, I'm having lunch with my boss and her family, at one o'clock, at a restaurant by the water. In the afternoon, I'm going to finish my project for Monday. And then I'll sleep!"

On Friday night, Marta looked at the weather forecast. Rain on Saturday. Rain on Sunday. Heavy rain all weekend, with strong wind. She looked out of the window. The sky was already dark.

At eight o'clock on Saturday, her phone rang. It was Jess. "Are you looking outside? We aren't going to the beach today. Come to my place. We'll make pancakes and watch films." Then Omar sent a message: "The concert is canceled."

Marta stayed in bed for an hour. Then she worked on her project with a cup of tea, and by four o'clock, it was finished. In the evening, she went to Jess's flat, ate too many pancakes and laughed until midnight.

On Sunday, it was still raining, but the lunch with her boss was lovely. The restaurant was warm and the food was good. "Marta, you look very relaxed," said her boss. "I am," said Marta. "My project is finished. I'm going to do nothing this afternoon." Outside, the rain finally stopped.